


lunch rush

by simonspeaks



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Coffeeshop AU, M/M, Rivals to Lovers, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29690220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simonspeaks/pseuds/simonspeaks
Summary: Simon Snow is happy working at the Starbucks with his friends. There's just one thing that makes it unbearable: Baz Pitch.Is it possible that, even in a world where soulmates exist, they're not who expect? Or want them to be?
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 12
Kudos: 28
Collections: Baz's Birthday Exchange





	1. In which Simon judges Baz's taste

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Knife_Child](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knife_Child/gifts).



> Hello! I made this fic for Knife_Child (@knifechild on tumblr) for the Carry On Exchange Fest, Baz's Birthday edition. I hope that you all enjoy!

It’s a quiet day at our Starbucks. It’s just Shepherd and I behind the counter today and it’s been a slow trickle of customers all morning. The lunch crowd should be getting here- I glance up at the big clock to the left of the door- any minute now. 

I sigh and lean against the counter, putting my rag over my shoulder. I keep one eye on the door and another on Shepherd, who’s finishing up a drink for one of the online orders. Usually Penny’s here too, but she got the day off to visit her family. 

My playlist’s playing on the speakers overheard. It’s some Kansas song I added during a shift because Shepherd’s from Omaha.

“Nebraska and Kansas aren’t even that similar,” he said when the song came on.

I punched his shoulder a little. “Come on, Shep, they’re both dry.”

He snorted. “Yeah, alright. But they’re different!”

The bell on the door twinkles. I look. And there he is. Baz. 

He saunters in, a grey cardigan pulled tight around him and a thin red scarf around his neck that looks like it’s made from one of the softest fabrics ever. His hair is pushed back a little. It would look better down and framing his face. 

I shake my head. I can’t be thinking these things about Baz. He’s  _ evil _ . As if to prove my point he comes up to the counter and orders a Pumpkin Mocha Breve, some abomination of a drink he’s created. 

We’re not supposed to judge customer’s drinks, especially not to their face, but Baz has got a smug grin on his face and I want to wipe it off.

“When are you gonna get rid of that sweet tooth?” I say as I pull a cup from the stack and write his name on it.

His eyes narrow. Good. 

“None of your business,  _ Simon _ ,” he sneers. “When are you going to start making my drink properly?”

“You can go to another store if you don’t like how we make it.”

“Another store would be miles away. I’m not going that far.”

“There’s one literally around the corner!” As much as I despise how close the locations are, at least I can make a good point about it.

I can see Shepherd roll his eyes. He doesn’t approve of our rivalry. He doesn’t seem to think it’s “rational” or “good for either of you”. 

I sigh and slide the cup over to Shepherd. “That’ll be 4 pounds.”

Baz pulls out his wallet from his tight black jeans and pays.

It takes Shepherd what feels like ages to make the drink. I try and busy myself with checking if we have any online orders, but I’m refreshing the page to nothing every time. I can feel Baz’s eyes on me, burning my skin and making my face and neck feel hot. I take a breath in and look at him. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest and it makes him look like he’s some model- I don’t think he is. He must work at one of the offices nearby. Probably the kind of person who has a salad with avocado slices on it. Disgusting.

I fiddle with my sleeves, rolling them all the way down and then back up to my mid forearm. It covers my soulmate mark that’s on the inside of my left forearm. Everyone’s soulmate marks are different, but for each couple they’re in the same place and of the same thing. It’s not always romantic either, but I think most people expect them to be. Mine’s a red rose with green leaves. Super generic. I don’t know why it couldn’t have been something cooler, like a word in your soulmate’s handwriting (some people have those) or a cup of coffee (at least then it would somewhat relate to me). I, like most people, am stuck with one that doesn’t have any hidden meaning except “Your person is out there”. And what a message that is. I have all the people I need already. Penny, Shep, Agatha, Ebb my landlady. I don’t know what more I could ask for.

Shep finishes making the sickeningly sweet coffee (I got curious one day and made one. I spat it all over the counter and had to clean it up) and sets it down on the counter in front of Baz.

“Have a nice day!” It’s the standard thing we say when giving customers their orders. But for Shep, it’s completely genuine, because he’s just that nice of a person. I do most of the time, when I’m not at the till on the other end of the orders. Or when it’s Baz I’m giving the drink to.

“Thanks Shepherd,” Baz says nicely. I don’t know that Baz has ever been  _ nice  _ before. “And Simon.” Baz sneers. Ah, that’s more like it.

Baz walks out of the door, waving behind his shoulder like we’re his subjects and he’s the fucking king of England. 

There’s nobody in the shop but Shep and I, so I groan and slide down to sit on the floor. I cover my face with my hands and groan in frustration again.

Shep puts his rag over his shoulder and moves to sit down on the floor with me. “Come on, Simon, it’s not that bad.”

I run a hand through my hair and look up at him. He’s quite a bit taller than me- but not quite as tall as Baz, if them standing a few feet apart is anything to go off of. 

I take a deep breath in. Then out. Then repeat. It’s something I learned in therapy, but Shep and Penny keep cheering me on when I do it so I guess I’ve formed a pavlovian response to feeling better. Not that the breathing itself doesn’t make me feel better, it’s just. Y’know. Different when you friends are cheering you on.

“You’re right,” I say. “I can’t let him get to me.”


	2. In which Baz eats a salad with avocado slices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol can you tell I've been inspired by Howl's Moving Castle in regards to chapter titles.

I walk out of the Starbucks, letting the door swing shut behind me. Oh my god. My face feels hot, despite my efforts to keep myself cool. I'm a disaster. I can't even have a decent conversation with the cute barista before we both turn it hostile.

Simon's right, in any case. I  _ could _ go to another Starbucks. But the other one's new and I've been going to this one ever since I started working at the office as a copywriter a couple years ago, even before Simon started working there, though just by a few months. His co-workers and I actually get along, probably because they never tell me my drink is too sweet. It's probably a policy thing, though Simon sure doesn't seem to care about that.

I take a sip of my drink and sigh contentedly, walking in the door of the office building and taking a right towards the elevator. Simon's right. It  _ is _ sweet. But sometimes it's just what you need.

I press the button for the third floor and enjoy the quiet ride up. There's usually elevator music to mark this as a well-off establishment, but the speakers have been (blessedly) broken for two weeks.

I take the second door on the right to our company's part of the building. There's a receptionist, Cindy, who I wave to with the hand not holding my coffee as I pass. The phone rings before she can wave back, but she smiles at me right before she picks it up.

I make my way through the hall before reaching my door. It has  _ Copywriting _ written on a small gold placard to the right of the door. I sigh and open the door. 

There are two other desks in here, but both Dev and Niall are out for lunch. I slump into my desk chair, sliding down it and setting my nearly empty coffee cup onto my clean desk. It’s made of the light faux wood that nearly every desk is these days- except for the ones that are painted white, which I’ve never understood and am not going to start now. The wood looks nice, even if it is fake. 

The big desktop in front of me is shut down- I make sure to do that for privacy reasons every time I leave to get my coffee. 

I feel a pang in my stomach. Right. Food. We have a small fridge in here, so I get up and grab my glass tupperware out of it. Besides some drinks and a couple of sandwiches it’s empty. My fork is in my bag, so I grab it and sit down at my desk again, this time sat up like a proper Pitch should be. 

I dig into my salad, savoring the smoothness of the avocado slices, and start up my desktop. While I wait, my mind wanders.

I sigh, looking over to my coffee cup beside me. Everytime I go in I hope against all odds that Simon and I can finally end our rivalry. Which I know won’t happen, because as Dev always says, I put up a good face and refuse to let anyone see past that.

He’s probably right, but I refuse to tell him that and let him have the satisfaction. 

Another sip of the coffee, and it’s gone. The trash is right next to the door, but I don’t feel like getting up right now, so it stays on my desk, reminding me of this afternoon.

I scratch at my arm, right where my soulmate mark is. I’ll have to be sure to put some anti-itch cream on it when I get home. It’s been acting up the last couple of years, which means that whoever they are, my soulmate is near, probably someone I already know. I have to figure it out before they do. I can’t let myself be surprised by something like that. It’s why I always wear long sleeves, and cardigans are fashionable, comfortable, and serve my purpose. Whoever they are, I will find them.

Someone in the hallway outside is laughing, drawing my attention up and over my desktop to look at the door. There’s a tall and thin window to the left of it, but I’ve made sure that its blinds are always closed. 

The door handle twists, and in come Dev and Niall, the devils. Dev’s got his hair pushed back and his sides shaved close, and Niall’s much the same, though his red hair puffs up into curls. They remind me of Simon’s curls, though his are looser, and some kind of dirty blond.

“Baz!” Niall calls out.

I wave at him politely and then turn back to my computer, which by now has finished powering up. My email inbox is open, and I have ten new emails since I went on lunch break. All new things for me to look over, I’m sure.

Every document passes through me before getting published, and it's a nightmare how many grammatical errors there are. A large portion of them from the very people I’m sharing this room with. Technically we have the same job title, but I don’t understand how either of them got hired. I have to stop myself from looking over their work, telling myself I don’t get paid enough to do that. 

I guess they are people with worse spelling. Simon comes to mind, though I’ve never seen him write anything besides the handwritten name on my cup. He just seems the type.

I sigh and get back to work. I can think more about him later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm planning on posting a new chapter every day until this fic is done. I hope that you all enjoy!


	3. Chapter Three- In which Simon talks too much about Baz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a daily updating fic can update at 11:26 pm. Also last night, true to fashion, I watched Howl's Moving Castle for the third time in like two and a half months.   
> I hope that you all enjoy!!

The lunch rush always gets to me, no matter how prepared for it I am. And today, I’m not prepared at all. Shepherd and I face it like we’re soldiers off at war, and each fancy coffee made or breakfast sandwich and bag of chips handed out is another enemy down. 

It’s a rush of people coming in the door, then walking out of it once we hand them their drink. Shep and I are moving back and forth behind the counter. It’s a flurry of orders and credit cards for me, and Shep is moving as fast as he can between the three different drinks he’s making at any given time. Everytime one is ready he calls the name and order out. I wish Penny were here. It’s always easier this time of day when you have a full staff. 

Once the clock clicks over to 1 pm, people start to trickle in rather than the full-on stream. 

I finally let myself breathe. In, and out. Then I put on a smiling face for the customers that are still in. 

Shep looks at the clock. “Well, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tonight!” He pats my back shoulder on his way to the back room. 

Penny’s coming home from her visit to family tonight, and Shep and Agatha are coming over to play games like we do every Thursday. It’s a bit of a tradition at this point. 

Gareth and Rhys both come in to pick up their shifts soon after, and then I pack up my bag and head home. 

Home is only five stops away on the tube and then seven blocks past that. By the time I step out into the fresh air, the sun is lowering in the sky towards the horizon, but the city is still cast in the golden sunlight. I breathe it in. Doesn’t get much better than this. 

“Simon!” I hear from the tube entrance. 

“Penny!” I could recognize that voice anywhere. She’s got a rolling suitcase beside her and her hair is pushed up into a messy bun. And she’s grinning like a madman. 

I run to catch up with her. 

“I thought you wouldn’t be home for another hour or so.”

She shrugs. “Thought I’d come home early. How was work?”

We fall into an easy stride as I tell her about Baz. 

“And then he came in and insulted me!”

Penny rolls her eyes. This is one of the few things that she actually gets fed up with me about except for leaving my socks all over the living room floor. “Simon, I think that you’re actively making things more hostile with him.”

“No, I-” I start. 

“Shitting on his order counts as hostility.”

I sigh. This is a conversation we’ve had too many times to count. And no matter what I try (or how evil Baz acts), I can never get her or Shep to fully get it. 

Fortunately for me, we’ve arrived at our apartment building. I dig out my keys and we head up to our shared flat.

Penny and I have had a flat together for about a year now. She needed a roommate, I needed a place to stay, and we worked together, so it made it an easy decision. Penny may be fierce, but she’s one of the most lovable people I’ve ever met. And my ex-boyfriend worked at an animal shelter and raised puppies. 

Our flat is cozy, but it’s got some modern edges to it. I think the kitchen must have been redone only a few years ago. Which is probably why rent is so high. Fortunately the coffeeshop income is enough for both of us to live on for now. 

Penny takes her shoes off and then makes a beeline for her room to start unpacking. “Remember to put a pot on the stove before they get here!” she calls over her shoulder. Right. I’ve been put on cooking duty. 

But first I do a once-over of the living room. I already cleaned it up this morning, folding blankets and taking my socks to my room, but I figure it’s always good to double-check. 

The Starbucks uniform, while not entirely bad, is something I’m glad to shed at the end of my workday. I change into some grey joggers and a nice black t-shirt thats sleeves only go halfway down my biceps. My arms can breathe again and my soulmate mark is on full show.

I put on some music and then get to cooking. The kitchen is bright since it faces the setting sun, and the overhead lights make the white marble counters gleam. Once I start cooking, I get into the zone. We’re just having regular spaghetti and marinara sauce from a can, but I’m choosing to add some of the few herbs we have around, like oregano, basil, and two bay leaves. I always forget to take them out, so today I set an alarm on my phone for 30 minutes from now, when we’ll probably be eating.

I’m in the middle of checking on the pasta when the buzzer goes off. I go ahead and let Shep and Agatha up, since today they’ve run into each other at the door.

“Hey, come in,” I say, opening the door. “I was just making dinner.”

They both take off their coats and settle into the living room like they belong. Which they do. We’re a team.

“Oh, hello Shepherd! Agatha!” Penny says, walking down the hallway from her room. 

Agatha waves and Shep’s face lights up. 

“There you are! How was the trip?”

“There’s only Priya and Pip still at home, and they’re both headed off to uni soon. So you can imagine all the stress they’re under. I had to have about three conversations with them about how I’m sure they’ll do great because it runs in the family and they’re both smart kids.”

I listen in to her story while I go finish up the pasta.

I fix everyone a plate and Penny helps me carry them over to our square coffee table. I take a seat on the floor, enjoying how soft the rug is. 

Penny pulls Quiddler out from our stack of games and shuffles the deck before giving us all the right amount of cards. She’s wicked at this game, and I know I’m bound to lose, but tonight is about enjoying some time with friends.

Agatha is also an excellent player, though she doesn’t manage the low scores like Penny does. Shep and I both knock the points out of the park. By the third round we’ve got got well over 10 points and are working our way up. The entire goal of the game is to get the least amount of points possible, but Shep and I are making it a challenge to get the most ever.

“Hey, you can make a word out of that!” Agatha says, leaning over at Shep’s cards out on the table. She rearranges them to spell “you” and “am”. 

Shep swears, but he’s still smiling and laughing. 

It takes me back to this afternoon. Why does Baz keep showing up? There’s another Starbucks literally two blocks away. What do we have that they don’t?


	4. In which a realization occurs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing these the day of/ night before posting so bear with me for the late updates each night, lol. I think I'm going to try and prewrite some chapters this weekend so posting next week goes smoothly. I hope you all enjoy!!

The coffee shop is filled with yellow sunbeams streaming through the window and when the door opens a warm breeze floats in. 

It almost feels magical. There’s a weight lifted from my shoulders and I feel light. Like today could be anything I want it to be. Game nights usually end like this, with me the next morning feeling rested and peaceful. I’ve got all I need in the world, and it comes in the shape of three great friends. 

If I could bottle this feeling, I would. Keep it for the days when it feels like the world is crashing in on me. Like when I see Baz.

My eyes drift to the clock on their own. 11:59 am. Then it ticks over to 12. My face hardens and I feel the same fire in my gut I do every time I expect Baz to come in. 

The door of the coffee shop opens and there he is. Baz. He’s wearing a forest green cardigan and black v-necked t-shirt. Today’s cardigan has pockets, which he’s shoved his hands in and makes it look effortlessly cool. 

I grumble and pull out a cup for him and start pouring in the syrups. The sooner I can get him to leave, the better.

The coffee shop isn’t too full. There’s only a handful of people seated here. That’ll change in just a few minutes, once people get off work and make their way here. Baz must work really close since he always manages to make it right at the beginning of the lunch rush. He comes up to the till with a smirk on his lips.

“Miss me?” Baz says, looking at me.

“Fuck off,” I say, not loud enough for the customers at the tables. Penny shoots me a glare.

He rolls his eyes, pays, and then moves over to the counter for pick-ups. He never pulls out his phone, just taps his foot against the floor and looks impatiently at me.

I’ve made the drink exactly how he likes it. It’s hot (though I don’t know why anyone would want that in the middle of the summer) and sweet as can be. I grab one of the black lids and pop it into place on top. Next I slide it into one of the sleeves. There’ll be no room to complain now- though wouldn’t it be great if I could get him to complain? If he doesn’t like the way I make it he really could just go over to the other location.

Right as I’m thinking that and making my way over to the counter where Baz is waiting, I trip on the black mat we have on the ground, and go flying. The floor is coming up to meet me and I swear I’m going to hit my head on the counter. I don’t even bother with trying to save the drink- it’s well past the point of saving. In a panic, I actually catch myself on the counter without falling completely over. 

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “I can make another,” I say.  _ Please say no. _

“Very well.” Baz’s voice is curt.

I look up at him. His green cardigan and shirt are wet.

_ Fuck.  _ So much for the “perfect drink”. If this isn’t enough to get Baz to go to the other location, I don’t know what will.

Baz sighs and slides his cardigan off. And that’s when I see it.

I take a shaky breath in. “Is that a tattoo?” I ask, pointing at his arm. I already know what his answer will be, but I can hope. 

He looks like he’s caught halfway between raising his eyebrow in concern and sneering. If I weren’t panicking right now, I would probably laugh at it. At him. At my  _ soulmate.  _

“Is everything alright?” Baz asks.

I immediately sober up. “Yes. I’ll get right on that drink.” I gather all of the ingredients, carefully measuring them into the disposable paper coffee cup. When it’s ready I make sure to carefully walk over to the counter and hand the drink to him. 

He’s got his wet cardigan folded over his arm and I feel kind of bad for him. Fuck, it’s probably just my brain thinking that now that I know we’re soulmates. 

Baz waves goodbye and heads out the door. What if he never comes back now that I’ve probably stained one of his cardigans? What if this is the last time I see my soulmate? And what sick fuck decided that Baz and I were  _ soulmates _ .

“Simon,” Penny says from the till. 

I shake my head. I must have been looking out the door for longer than I thought. 

She slides four coffee cups towards me. 

I set to making them all, and by the time I look back up an hour has passed. My stomach feels like it’s full of hornets and I’m so  _ so  _ tired.

“I’m gonna go on break, Pen.”

Our back room is set up with lockers. In mine I always keep a water bottle and my bag. Right now I just need some air, so I grab my water and take it with me out back. It’s a little messy back here in the alley. There’s a dumpster we share with some other businesses around the place and empty crates all over the place. I take a seat on one and take a swig from my bottle. 

Fucking  _ Baz.  _ What am I supposed to do with that?


	5. In which Baz’s coworkers try to talk some sense into him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? An update before 11:30 pm? Wild! I hope you enjoy

I’m wet, I’m cold, and I smell like a candy bar. My cardigan- one of my favorites- is folded over my arm as I make my way back to the office. 

What was up with Simon today? I look down at my soulmate mark and frown. And why did he think it was a tattoo? I roll my eyes. I could have picked someone with a little more smarts to get a crush on. Oh well, nothing to be done about it now.

I actually find I enjoy the feeling of the warm sunlight directly on my skin. It makes me feel alive. 

I haven’t always insisted on wearing sleeves. It was something I started doing as a teenager. At that point more than the lucky few childhood best friends had started finding their soulmates. And the romantic relationships that came with them always made me raise my eyebrow. They all seemed so  _ happy _ about it. Like the only thing that mattered to them was their soulmate. I refused to let myself feel like that, even though a small, secret part of me desperately wanted it. It just has to be on my own terms. 

I breathe in the fresh air, and then head into the office. Dev and Niall notice my wet cardigan. 

“Bad luck at the coffee shop today?” Dev says.

I sigh. “You wouldn’t believe it.”

“Try us,” Niall says over his desktop. 

I put my cardigan over the back of my chair and take a seat before telling them about the disaster that is Simon Snow. “First he told me to fuck off, and then he tripped over his own feet and spilled my coffee all over me. Then he freaked out and asked if this,” I point at my soulmate mark, “was a tattoo.”

Dev and Niall share a glance with each other. 

“What?”

“I mean it’s just,” Niall starts. “It does look kind of like a tattoo.” He ends the sentence like it’s a question, then shrugs. He reminds me of Simon when he does that.

I roll my eyes. “Normal people wouldn’t freak out about a tattoo.”

“He could be super strict about that kind of stuff,” Dev says. 

I raise my shoulders in a small shrug. “He just doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’d have a strict moral code about that kind of thing.”

“It could be….” Dev muses. “Have you ever seen his bare arms?”

I scoff and choke back an ‘I wish’. “No?”

“Maybe he freaked out because he’s your soulmate.”

Okay, fair. If I found out one of my customers were my soulmate I would have a freak out too. I start to smile at the idea of Simon and I as soulmates. I feel half-drunk at the thought. I shake my head, though. “It’s impossible. Simon and I aren’t soulmates.”

“Weirder things have happened.”

I roll my eyes and log in to my computer, shutting down the conversation. 

I keep thinking about it throughout the day, even when I know that it wouldn’t happen in a million years. Even after I’ve gotten home and ordered a pizza (without pineapple, I’m not a heathen). What if they’re right? Merlin, that would be terrible. Even if I did end up asking him out- which while I think he’s pretty, we’d have to get through the rivalry bit we’ve got going on right now- having it just be another relationship was what I was thinking.

I make sure to throw my cardigan in the wash, along with some other things that need to get washed.

Sighing, I take another slice of pizza from the box on the couch next to me. I have better things to be thinking about- well, okay, maybe not  _ better _ , but certainly something that has my mind running in less circles. I turn on  _ The Day We Said Goodbye _ , which the synopsis says is about a couple who met in a romcom situation and then fall in love. And if the title is anything to go by, I’ll be crying in an hour and a half when the movie ends.  _ #selfcare _ , am I right. 

I grab my fluffy white blanket from the back of my couch and wrap it around me. It may be summer, but the nights are cool and the extra warmth is appreciated. I’ve always been sensitive to the cold, so I usually have the heaters turned way up. It’s a good thing I don’t have to worry about a roommate. During college I spent most of my time wrapped in multiple layers.

Halfway through the movie I get up and move the laundry to the dryer, and sit back down. I’m glad for the distraction to keep my mind from running itself ragged thinking about impossible scenarios.

I fold my laundry as the last few minutes of the movie play out. The couple has to break up but then they both run at each other at the airport and get back together. 

I sigh.  _ Straights _ . Always something dramatic going on with them. 


End file.
